


Centred

by DissssBishh



Category: Hesitant Alien - Gerard Way (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Image, Eating Disorders, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Introspection, Jealousy, M/M, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DissssBishh/pseuds/DissssBishh
Summary: A lifetime of doubt and hatred.. all because of the fat on his centre.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Jamia Nestor, Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Centred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marriedtojbiebs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marriedtojbiebs/gifts), [MyChemicalKink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalKink/gifts).



  
“You’ve gotten too big.”   
His hands travelled to his large soft centre, his hands feeling the oddly comforting squish he piled on due to way too many indulgences, not to mention his family’s insistence he wasn’t eating well, a growing boy like him needed his energy. Unfortunately his body hadn’t gotten the memo it was up he was supposed to be growing up rather than out. The dome of doughy flesh filled his hands an experimental poke saw his finger go all the way in up to his last knuckle.

  
Had he really plumped up this much?

  
“It’s on me. I know. I just sit around stuffing my face and reading comics.”

He placed his hands on the outward bulge his stomach oddly perky despite it’s weight and heft. There was no hiding it, it pushed out his t-shirts and threatened to pop buttons. He hadn’t looked at a scale in a while not that he really wanted to. He huffed slightly as he pulled his shirt down shrugging thoughts away. He could worry about it in a while, he just wanted to get through highschool and write comics.

  
Comics may have been his dream but he had to put that on the back burner after he saw the sky burn after he realised he had so much he needed to say. Coming so far from sitting in a basement wishing for change a seventeen... But it hadn’t been only the world that had changed.  
He had slimmed down a since seventeen, finally spurting upwards his shoulders broadening, his softness however still adamantly clinging to him, in that oft despised belly. At least he could say he wasn’t nearly as rotund as it had been. Just pudgy now.   
His tummy sits prominently in his lap despite the attempted concealment with baggy hoodies. He lifted his jumper up, revealing the rounded flesh the half folded indent of where his belly button was set in a grimace.

  
“You know I hate you, right? I can feel you moving all the time, you’re always hungry, you just sit there. Being soft.”

  
He looked down at the blob of pale flesh resting heavily on his midsection, pooching onto his equally soft thighs. The way all his fat collected and accumulated in the roundness of his stomach, his flabby love handles and hips, the rolls on his back connected to the mass on his middle. He pulled the hoodie down over the bump. It didn’t matter right now. There was an album to finish.

  
One album became two, the latter launching them to success his body felt to the wayside slightly , when he had ballooned to 200lbs he had thought the interest would stop the label would cut them off he hid his body again but no one said much to him. Well not until after he sobered up. But they weren’t quite what he’d expected.

  
He sat himself down at a window side barstool swivelling the seat slightly as he took occasional sips at his diet Coke. He came over here to be alone not to mention the others had taken their time getting here. He batter away niggling thoughts on the way his thighs seemed to ooze over the narrow stool instead admiring the soft lights of the city.  
He felt a heavy heated pair of eyes on him, the presence originating from behind him, shifting briefly before he heard a half whispered slur in the seat next to him.

  
“What a nice ass.”

  
“Huh?”  
“And those hips baby boy, fuck coulda fooled me made me think you were a girl.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You’re curvy. Y'know sexy n' shit.”

  
He went back to sipping at his diet Coke awkwardly, he doesn’t know what to do with a half drunks come ons much less the fact that they seemed to be so appreciative of his extra padding. He finished his drink ducking to the bathroom, noticing the lingering gazes settle on him as he walks away. He can’t help but flounce a little let his hips sway slightly, an attention whore through and through.

  
He secures himself a stall and sits down finding himself in well remembered position, his belly in his lap talking with the corpulent flesh. But not so familiar.. a slight flash of pride as he thinks about the plush curves of excess... Someone thought they were sexy..

  
“You’re the reason that guy was hitting on me tonight, apparently it looks good on me. The fat..”  
He gave it a timid pat before exiting the stall catching a glimpse of his ass in the mirror before he left the bathroom.. Well it certainly wasn’t unpleasant to look at.

  
He saw Frank and Mikey huddled together goofy grins plastered over their faces he crossed over to the booth they had crammed in waving at Frank as he raised his eyes from whatever Mikey had showed him. He could see Frank’s eye’s happily slide down his frame settling on his hips back to Gerard’s face smiling so sincerely as their eyes glanced into each other.

  
Those glances grew into so much more, maybe it was all the time they spent together maybe Paramour mansion made them grow closer than he had expected.

  
Frank’s movements stilled, his hands still firmly clenching Gerard’s stomach. He kissed gently between Gerard’s shoulder blades as the aftershocks of his orgasm subsided.  
The buzzing emanating from their luggage strewn by the door in forgotten in their lust fuelled haze. Frank pulled out slowly, Gerard only winced slightly, it hadn’t been the first time he’d gotten fucked that day.   
He glanced at the caller ID still giving Gerard his trademark post sex smirk. Gerard curled in on himself half propped on the bed trying to settle into some form of comfortable position.

  
“It’s Jamia, I’ll be right back.”

He placed a soft kiss on Gerard’s mussed hair crossing to the bathroom as he turned to Gerard smiling sweetly.

  
“You look good gee, a little thicker. I like having something to grab onto.”

  
He turned over on his back, poking his fingers in to softness that always seemed to put on during tours this one hadn’t been so bad for some reason, maybe because they’d been too busy, maybe because Frank seemed insistent on getting as much time with Gerard as he could, particularly.... Intimate time. He looked down at the body Frank was becoming so familiar with, enough to notice and appreciate it’s roundness and curves. He skimmed his fingers across the supple surface of his stomach.

  
“Yeah.. Frank thinks you’re cute... Certainly marked you up good enough to prove it..”

  
His hands followed the soft pink marks left on his flesh by Frank’s rough handling crescent moon marks from where Frank had dug his finger nails in.

  
“Maybe when he gets off the phone he'll kiss them better.”

  
He gazed over to Frank standing in the bathroom smiling softly at some cute joke, or maybe he was just smiling at hearing Jamia. The dull ache from the marks and in his heart seemed to sting a bit more at that.  
He rolled over again stretching out on the hotel bed, maybe his little bit of pudge wasn’t so bad, if someone else could learn to love it, maybe he could too..

  
Of course that depends on having someone to show you how. Gerard hadn’t settled for that. He’d settled for what he thought he wanted. The kind of love he was happy to change to satisfy anything himself, his art, his relationships whatever.

  
He sat silent in his dressing room trying to hold his body and mind slack in order to perform The slight tension held in his spine gives his inner feelings away. He’s been catty and bitchy this entire time, his seemingly tiny edits to his food choices for the sake of his appearance were actually taking effect, for better and for worse  
The ever present hungry snarl of his stomach informed him of it’s particular position on it’s malnourishment.He felt an aggressive gnawing against stomach he didn’t want to think about the curling grumble of hunger. He glared in spite at the now concave expanse of his stomach. 

  
“What? You ate earlier. You’ve had enough.”

  
The grumbling graduates into groans the gnawing becomes less tolerable. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it anymore, not the softness Frank loves, it’s the gluttony Lindsey hates.   
He finds a forgotten light beer, ripping the cap off chugging it down his Adam’s apple bobbing as the poison slides down his throat, but at least it’s only half calories.  
His stomach seems to settle slightly if only having something in it to digest. 

  
“Now shut the fuck up and I’ll feed you tomorrow.”

  
His bones moved and rocked his flesh and sinew to the songs he needed to perform, his stomach stayed deathly silent running on nerves and adrenaline. But that was all only temporary, starving a man only makes him wish for food more and two years of dieting and calorie counting had left him ravenous, not that you’d know that from looking at his body. 

  
He was so soft, it seems when he gave himself an inch of wiggle room in regard to the diet Lindsey had put him on his stomach rounded out that further inch. 

  
He picked at the more than generous slice of cake that had been pushed on him in celebration of his UK tour, he really shouldn’t, his gut was hard at work trying to digest a heavy rich meal that he’d been too polite to turn down after their final show.

  
“You can have it as a treat....but don’t get too used this ok? You know you’re spoiled enough as it is. Fuck... And I’ve still got the rest of the tour to go? You’re gonna get so big aren’t you? I can’t believe half my stage clothes are already tight. I can’t have put on more than what 10 lbs?”

The prominent curve seemed to dissuade him from guessing so low

  
“Probably 15...”

  
He took to attempting to try and suck in his heavy food laden stomach but stuffing himself with junk at seventeen should have taught him better, the pressure seemed too great he had to quickly relax his stomach out against his already tight clinging shirt, he could’ve sworn he heard a creak coming from the buttons. 

  
“Okay, okay I won’t try that again, but don’t get too comfortable.. you’re not going to be staying like this for too much longer.”

  
He thought it would go as simply as that he’d come home from touring and settle back into writing comics, and for a few tolerable years that’s what happened, however his belly maintained it’s shape and size ensuring a permanent fixture to Gerard.

  
Until he found out one day that Frank had nearly died, that they needed to exist again. He saw Frank’s eyes smile, beaming pulsating with joy and light as the played together for the first time in six years.

Gerard felt rays of that burst through his Foggy nervousness. He was riding an adrenaline high as he made his way back home, the moment seemed so surreal, people really missed them that much. He hasn’t felt so wanted in a while.

  
He stripped himself of his clothing, soaked in sweat head full but starting to settle back down as he went about the sometimes neglected routine of washing himself.  
He stepped under the spray trying to focus on the routine of cleaning himself, but he couldn’t help it, seeing glances of himself in the mirror through the haze of building steam in the bathroom, he’s fat. Undeniably so.

He’s the largest he’s been in his life.

  
He should hate himself should want nothing more than to destroy this body.. to wrench the fat from his flesh.. but he doesn’t want to.  
The warm stream followed the curves of his body the stream stretching out particularly over the crest of his stomach, his hand followed in it’s wake replacing the warmth with his own hand.   
There’s something comfortable and familiar in his touch like petting an old neighbours dog.. he feels the words leak from his lips

  
“ I don’t really hate you, just myself.” 

  
It’s a small admission to himself. A half step before an emboldened stride. He continues on cleaning himself, his hands being oddly magnetised to that slightly less hated excess of fat.   
He turns off the shower and stares at himself in the mirror a towel wrapped just under the curving hang of his stomach, as he meets his own gaze in the fogged glass he can’ t seem to shake the glint in his eye, He felt the love in the crowd... On the stage.. it wrapped him up and he can’t get that buzzing warmth out of his head.

  
“It felt good being on stage again...”

  
Falling into bed he couldn’t help replaying the night in his head. If that’s what his future held he’s more than excited for it.His body was rushed with a wave of gentle fatigue, his hands returned to his stomach comfortable and naturally enough.   
As if they had wanted nothing more than to return to their gentle purchase on the softness

**Author's Note:**

> Very special thank you as usual to the one who inspired and supported me to write this the wonderful marriedtojbiebs. As well as a shout out to MyChemicalKink for always having wonderful ideas and some of the best chubby frerard I've seen. If you enjoy this please check out their work!!


End file.
